A Journey of Brothers
by punkchick99
Summary: Sirius and James hate each other, right from the start as they were predestined to do. How long will it take for them to realise that they are meant to be friends? Will they ever realise?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yeah, so I revamped this one. The cliché horribleness of it was killing me! Anyway I've also realised its totally AU and not to canon – don't shoot me. Thanks to all readers ******

CHAPTER 1

"Black, Sirius!" yelled a strict-looking woman, holding up a tattered hat.

Sirius Black walked nervously to the chair, avoiding stares from every direction. He sat down heavily, grabbed the hat from the woman, and plonked it on his head, making sure it was pulled over his eyes so he could not see his audience.

"Ahhh… another Black, I see. But this one is different to the others…hm… a good heart, a good soul… very smart too…also very powerful…but Slytherin won't do for you…no," said the hat quietly in Sirius' ear.

Sirius' chest constricted and he felt like he might have a panic attack of some sort. "No! What are you on about you stupid hat! I have to be in Slytherin!" he thought to the hat, hoping to Merlin that it could hear him.

"Ah, but you see, you disrespectful child, I must put you into whatever house that you belong. And Slytherin is not where you belong…you are not power-hungry, although you are powerful. You are not, and probably never could be, interested in the Dark Arts. Therefore I think it would be best if-" started the hat.

"NO!" yelled Sirius aloud this time. But his cry was not heard, as the hat overpowered him, yelling "GRYFFINDOR!" for the waiting crowd to hear.

There was complete silence as Sirius emerged from underneath the hat, throwing it to the professor and making his way to the Gryffindor table, shaking with anger and nerves. Unlike every other sorting, nobody clapped this time. That is, nobody but Albus Dumbledore.

Sirius just wished he would be quiet – this was awful enough, without the stupid old man clapping. But slowly, others, mainly professors, started to join in, and Sirius started to feel a little better.

Once he reached the table though, every ounce of hope was gone – they were all staring at him with some form of hatred, disgust, or wonder on their faces. They probably thought he was going to hex them all on the spot. Instead of pulling out his wand and doing just that, he sat down sullenly, staring at the table, making sure he didn't make eye contact with anyone. Those on the same bench moved along, giving him a wide berth, and so he was left alone.

The proceedings resumed, and Sirius remained staring at the table, ignoring the whispering around him, just simply fuming. He was so angry. Angry and scared. He didn't want to be in Gryffindor! What would his parents say? He wanted to be in Slytherin, like the family, he wanted to make them proud. The hat was wrong, he didn't belong here in this house of mudbloods and muggle-lovers.

As he sat fuming, he suddenly felt someone sit down on the bench next to him. He looked up in surprise, wondering why on earth any student would be sitting next to him. He looked up to see a boy with messy brown hair and glasses glaring at him in disgust.

"Don't think that I wanted to sit next to you. There was nowhere else to sit," said the boy scathingly, gesturing round at the rest of the benches, which were all full.

"Good. Why would I want to sit next to a Potter, anyway? Yeah, I know who you are. You're James Potter, son of Harold Potter, the auror," spat Sirius, and then turned around to face the other way.

James just glared at him, and then turned, starting to talk to a sandy-haired boy to the other side of him. The food appeared, and Sirius ate his meal in silence, not bothering to retort to the odd looks he was receiving from those in Gryffindor, as well as those in other houses.

Once everyone had eaten and Dumbledore had made his speech, a pompous looking prefect stood up at the Gryffindor table.

"Right. Gryffindor first years, follow me," he said loudly, and then walked grandly out of the hall. Sirius waited until all the other first years had started to follow, and then trailed behind them all, keeping his distance.

Suddenly a hand reached out from a niche in the wall beside him, and pulled him in, putting a hand over his mouth.

"Mmph," said Sirius, his voice muffled. He struggled, looking upwards to see the identity of his captor.

Damn.

"Hello, young cousin," said Bellatrix Black smoothly.

He simply glared at her, as her hand was still covering his mouth tightly.

"That was a rather dramatic display at dinner. My, my, my, what will Mummy and Daddy say I wonder?" she said mockingly, removing her hand from his mouth, but still keeping a tight grip on his upper arm.

"It's not my fault. It was the stupid hat," protested Sirius, looking at the floor, trying to hide his face from his cousin.

"Ah…but the hat puts you where you want to be. You always did stand up for yourself, didn't you Sirius. Just like your traitorous cousin Andromeda," she spat spitefully.

"No, no, I wanted to be in Slytherin, truly! But it wouldn't let me…" protested Sirius weakly.

Bellatrix peered down at him amusedly. "The hat wouldn't let you? Oh, poor baby, couldn't even get a hat to do what you wanted. You don't fool me Sirius. You are taking the wrong path and disgracing the family."

Sirius looked away miserably. "I have to go now," he said, breaking free of Bellatrix, and jogging to catch up with the rest of his year.

"Sirius!" she called after his retreating figure, annoyed that he had easily escaped her clutches, "You had better find a way to get re-sorted, or there will be consequences, believe me cousin!" She bared her teeth at him and then turned on her heel, stalking back towards the Hall.

Sirius ignored her, and managed to catch up to the pompous prefect and the crowd of first years, who were being shown to their dormitories. It turned out that Sirius was stuck with the Potter boy, the sandy-haired boy, whose name was Lupin, and a small, pudgy rat-faced boy, called Pettigrew.

Sirius sighed, and chucked his belongings next to a bed at the far side of the dormitory, so he could be as far away from the others as possible. He climbed straight into the four-poster without changing out of his robes, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sirius woke at seven, wearily changed out of his rumpled clothes from the night before, and made his way down to the Great Hall. He sat down at a bench on the far side of the Gryffindor table, once again, to stay as far away from prying, nosey people as possible.

Ten minutes later, the sandy-haired boy from his dorm came and sat next to him, much to Sirius' dismay. Sirius just hoped he wouldn't speak to him- although, why would he anyway, it wasn't as if Sirius was very welcoming.

"Hi. I'm Remus Lupin," said the boy, awfully cheery for seven in the morning.

Sirius just stared at him for a minute, and then mumbled his response. "Sirius Black. But you don't want to speak to me." He then turned away, figuring that this Lupin boy had gotten the message.

"Nice to meet you. If I didn't want to speak to you, then why would I be speaking to you?" Sirius turned to stare at him again.

"Listen, mate. I don't like you. And you shouldn't like me. So, take a hint, and go back to Potter," said Sirius exasperatedly.

"Nope," he said, still overly cheerful.

"Right. What do you want?" said Sirius, realizing that the boy probably wanted something, as that was the only reason he could think of that would cause him to speak to the scary, evil, Sirius Black.

"I want to know a couple of things."

"Right," sighed Sirius, thinking it was something about Dark Arts, or something about his family, "Go on then."

"Why don't you like James?" inquired the boy.

This hadn't been what was Sirius was expecting, but he answered nonetheless. Anything to get this boy to go away.

"Because. Well. Because he's a Potter."

"So you don't like him because of his name?" the boy asked, looking closely at Sirius, making him uncomfortable.

"Yes…No. Yes." Sirius didn't know what to say to try to make the boy understand. That was just the way it was.

"So that's a yes then?" the boy replied, his voice lilting a little as he posed the question.

"So, let me get this straight. You don't like James because of his name?"

Sirius realised it probably sounded a little stupid to an outsider, and started to get frustrated. So, he tried to scare the boy away by changing tactics.

"Yeah. And also because…" Sirius lowered his voice, so that only Lupin could hear, "his family are all muggle-lovers."

For some reason though, even when Sirius uttered the words, they felt wrong. But, Blacks were never wrong. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind, and focussed on the task on hand – getting rid of this annoying boy. That comment should have been enough to make him leave rather quickly, but to Sirius' surprise, Lupin wouldn't leave. He didn't even glare at him.

"Sure, whatever you say Black. But I know you aren't like the rest of your family."


	2. Chapter 2

I know you aren't like the rest of your family.

I know you aren't like the rest of your family.

I know you aren't like the rest of your family.

What the bloody hell had that Lupin kid been on about? How was he not like the rest of the Blacks? Same name. Same eyes, posture, stature, predisposition towards those lower than him. Same everything! The boy was just a twat, trying to mess with Sirius' mind. It was probably a joke, or a dare or something.

Yeah, that was it! Sirius bet that it was Potter behind all this, just trying to make Sirius confused. Potter was going down.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, Sirius walked down to the Great Hall glumly for breakfast, his hair irreparably messy, staring at the ground to ensure no eye contact.

He sat down at the empty end of the Gryffindor table, grabbing some freshly made toast and smearing a dollop of butter on it. He settled down to eat it, when suddenly he was rudely interrupted.

"Where were you last night? Out with your cousin Bella, torturing innocent people?" said James Potter sneeringly, sitting down next to Sirius for some unknown reason.

"For your information, I wasn't, as I can't stand my cousin, and I was…wait, why should I tell you?" Sirius replied bitterly, yet quietly, in case Bellatrix was listening.

James looked surprised for a moment, thinking that all the Blacks loved each other because of their pure blood. Slip up number one. James regained his composure, and said, "You should tell me because I want to know. What, drowning some poor animal in the Lake?"

Sirius stared at him, wondering how one person could make him so angry in such a short amount of time. Since he had been at Hogwarts, he had not been able to explore the castle much without getting stares, abuse, or the occasional death threat from a Slytherin or a relative, so he had been using the time at night when everyone was sleeping to explore. But, Potter seemed to think he was some kind of sadistic child, and so, he gave Potter what he wanted.

"Actually, yes. I was drowning those things…what are they? Kneazres? Kneazles? In the lake. Yes, it was quite fun. You can join me tonight if you like."

James just stared at him disbelievingly, though he started to edge away a little. "Yeah, right."

Sirius just rolled his eyes, climbed off the bench, and walked off exasperatedly, taking his toast with him. He went and sat at the other end of the table where he was still isolated enough to not have to talk to anyone. James stared back at him in confusion.

About halfway through breakfast, the mail arrived. Out of all the owls arriving, Sirius could only see one carrying a red, steaming envelope. He closed his eyes, and crossed his fingers- he hadn't had word from his parents yet.

He heard the flapping of wings above him, and something being dropped onto the table in front of him. He risked opening one eye, only to see the entire Gryffindor table staring at him, and a smoking red Howler with the Black family crest sitting on the table, ready to blow at any minute.

Sirius knew what it was, once again, because his cousins had informed him. What they hadn't told him, was that if you left a Howler too long, it would explode by itself. So, Sirius left it, waiting for it to simmer out, so he could throw it in the bin without opening it. But it just got redder… and smokier… and larger…

And then suddenly,

"SIRIUS BLACK! IF WE CAN EVEN CALL YOU THAT ANYMORE! HOW IN MERLIN'S NAME COULD YOU DO THAT TO US! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!" the Howler started screaming in Sirius' mother's voice. Sirius stared at in shock. It was smouldering in the air, and yelling at him! The paper was yelling at him!

"…DISGRACING OUR FAMILY NAME LIKE THAT! HOW COULD YOU! WHEN WE GOT THE OWL FROM YOUR COUSIN, SAYING THAT YOU WERE IN THAT DISGUSTING HOUSE, FULL OF MUGGLE-LOVERS AND MUDBLOODS, WE NEARLY MARCHED UP TO THE SCHOOL RIGHT THEN AND THERE!"

At this point the entire school was looking at Sirius. The Gryffindors with resentment, as were Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and most Slytherins were looking on with smirks on their faces, especially, Sirius noticed, his horrible cousin, Bellatrix.

The Howler went on for a while about family loyalty, and various insults towards Gryffindors, Sirius sinking lower and lower into his seat, until it finished with a bang.

"SIRIUS BLACK, YOU ARE COMING HOME THIS INSTANT! WE WILL DEAL WILL THIS WHEN YOU GET HERE! I EXPECT YOU TO BE HOME BY 5 O'CLOCK TONIGHT, I DON'T CARE HOW YOU GET HERE! BUT GET HERE, SOMEHOW, AND IF THAT OLD BAT DUMBLEDORE TRIES TO STOP YOU, DON'T LET HIM! I WILL SEE YOU TONIGHT! YOU ARE A DISGRACE SIRIUS BLACK, A DISGRACE TO OUR FAMILY!"

At this, Sirius nearly crawled under the table in shame. It was one thing to insult the students, and Sirius himself, but the Headmaster? Sirius wanted to just crawl into a hole and never come out. He couldn't face his parents. He shuddered at the thought of it. But he was sure that if he didn't face up to them, the consequences would be even worse.

Sirius risked a look up at the rest of the school. Most of the Slytherins had gone back to their breakfast, as had the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but the Gryffindors were all still glaring at him, shaking their heads, and whispering under their breath to each other.

He then looked up at the table where the professors were seated, only to see Professor Dumbledore staring at him, an unreadable look flitting across his face. Suddenly Dumbledore rose from his seat at the head of the table and strode over to the far end of the Gryffindor table, head held high, as the rest of the student body stared at him in awe. Professor Dumbledore never left his seat during mealtimes.

He reached Sirius and laid a hand on his shoulder gently. Sirius flinched, and then looked up at the silver-haired man and his prominent half moon glasses in fear. What was the headmaster going to do to him?

"Mr. Black, would you please come with me?" said the headmaster softly, so only Sirius could hear.

Sirius stood up, trembling, and followed the headmaster out of the Great Hall apprehensively, hundreds of curious eyes following them.

All that was running through Sirius' head as he was following the headmaster through various decorated halls, and up and down wooden staircases, was _What will happen to me? Has he spoken to my mother? Or worse, my father?_

After a short walk, they came to a stone gargoyle. Dumbledore stood in front of it, and said _"Banishio_!' The gargoyle moved aside, and there was a large space to walk through, into what, Sirius suspected, were the headmasters' quarters.

The Professor led Sirius to a wooden desk, and sat on one side, motioning for Sirius to sit on the other. Sirius sat down, still shaking, and looked at the headmaster fearfully.

"Don't look so scared Mr. Black, I have not brought you here to reprimand you," said Dumbledore warmly, giving the young boy a smile.

"Y- you didn't?" stuttered Sirius, looking at him in confusion.

"Of course not. Now, would you like some Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans?" said Dumbledore, offering a considerably healthier looking Sirius a bag of the lollies.

"No thankyou, sir. If you don't mind me asking, why did you bring me here?"

"Well, I would like to discuss the… letter… that just arrived for you. I, er, heard it from the head table, and was quite worried by what I heard," replied Dumbledore, looking at Sirius almost pitifully.

Sirius hung his head. "I am terribly sorry sir, I am sure that my mother did not mean the things she said, I'm sure she was just angry. You see, she really wanted me to be in Slytherin," he said, stumbling over the lies.

"I understand, Mr Black. But I was more concerned about the fact that you have been asked to report home, to the Black Manor, am I right?"

"Yes, sir," said Sirius glumly.

"And how do you feel about that, Sirius?"

Sirius thought about this question for a moment. His answer could get him into trouble, so he had to choose carefully.

"I am okay with it, sir. I expect my parents just want to… Discuss things with me. Please do not try to stop me from going, Professor," he said, with his head towards the ground, just in case his face gave away the truth.

Dumbledore looked at Sirius in concern, and seemed to think for a while.

After a few moments, the older man sighed, and said "Okay, Mr. Black. You shall go home. But I would like you back as soon as possible. I will send you by Floo Powder, straight after classes."

"Thankyou, sir," said Sirius, looking up at his headmaster in relief, and guilt. He was relieved that the headmaster was not going to attempt to stop him, but was feeling guilty that he had not told the Professor the truth.

"Be careful Mr Black, and report back here after your last class."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sirius went through his classes in a daze, barely taking in a thing, apart from the constant taunting from the Potter boy. "Poor Siri, has to go home to his mummy," "Aww poor Black, it's such a shame to lose you dear," were common taunts.

After his last class, a particularly hateful Potions class, Sirius trudged up to the headmaster's office once again, with a shoulder bag full of various books and necessities that he would need.

He told the marble gargoyle the password he had heard earlier that morning, and walked into the Headmasters' quarters, where, sure enough, Dumbledore was waiting for him by the fire.

"You are sure about this Mr Black?" said Dumbledore worriedly, once the boy reached him.

"Yes sir," he mumbled.

"Well, if you're sure," said the headmaster sadly, obviously troubled.

"Just remember that you are always welcome at Hogwarts, and we hope to see you back here soon. Please, owl me if you need anything. Here is some Floo Powder Mr Black, I trust you know how to use it?"

"Yes sir, and thankyou once again," replied Sirius, taking the Floo Powder, and glancing round the cosy room once more. He sighed, turned round, and stepped into the fire.

"_Black Manor!"_

He yelled, and was transported directly to the fireplace in his kitchen. What he saw when he emerged was enough to make him want to crawl back into the fireplace. His parents and brother, Regulus, were sitting at the kitchen table, watching the fireplace, waiting for Sirius to arrive. It seemed as if they had been sitting there for hours.

Sirius' mother reached out and grabbed her son by the shoulder, and pushed him into a chair facing them all. Sirius felt like he was going to be sick.

Regulus looked a little worried, but Mr Black, on the other hand, looked livid. Mrs Black sat down, and Mr Black stood up, looming over poor Sirius.

"Gryffindor?" he whispered, leaning down over Sirius menacingly. "Gryffindor!" he said a little louder. "GRYFFINDOR!" he shouted.

Sirius cringed. "I can explain, I-"

"No! You are a traitor!" yelled Mrs Black over the top of him.

Regulus was starting to look even more scared. Sirius was worried about his brother, as the boy was only eight years old, and already exposed to the horror of their parents.

"The Black family have been in our rightful place, Slytherin, for centuries. Never has a true Black broken the chain. We must go to that school and put you in your rightful place!" yelled Mr Black angrily.

"I'm not a traitor! It was the hat!" yelled back Sirius, suddenly fed up and not caring what was going to happen anymore. His father fumed, and got even closer to Sirius, almost touching his knees.

"Do not yell at me boy! You must have told the hat that you wanted to be in Gryffindor, so that was where it put you! The disgrace you have brought onto this family, being put into that House! No one in our family has ever been put in another House!"

"I didn't tell the hat! I told it I wanted to be in Slytherin, but it wouldn't listen! And besides, Andromeda isn't in-" started Sirius, but didn't get to finished, as Orion Black delivered a blow to his son's face.

"Do not speak that awful child's name! She is no Black!" The slap was quick, yet not unexpected, and Sirius' cheek felt as if it were on fire.

He stared harder at the table, wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, boy?" snarled Mr Black.

"I'm sorry Father. Although, is Gryffindor truly so bad? Maybe… Maybe our ancestors got it wrong?" he asked timidly, not wanting to give in. It was true, he honestly did not see why Gryffindor was so bad. Although nobody had bothered to befriend him, he knew it was only because he was a Black. He had seen the friendship and comraderie between the students in the House, and knew deep down that the kids in Gryffindor were not all that bad.

Sirius' father looked down at his son, his face filled with hatred. Sirius had never seen his father look so mad. He looked over at his mother, whom was staring at him in horror.

"HOW DARE YOU! YOU FILTHY TRAITOR!" screamed his father.

Sirius knew what was coming next, and braced himself.

"_Crucio!" _screamed Mr Black, pointing his wand at a quivering Sirius.

Sirius writhed in pain, feeling the curse hit him, his entire body wanting to fight it.

He fell to the floor, still rolling around, his father still holding him under the curse, with a sick grin on his face. Regulus held his head in his hands, not fully understanding, sobbing.

The curse seemed to stay for hours, and every minute Orion Black's smile became more and more twisted. Sirius' mother did nothing to stop her husband, nor did she side with Sirius, just stared blankly. It was as if she had washed her hands of the situation, and of Sirius.

Finally after Sirius was bruised, battered, and nearly unconscious on the floor, Mr Black stopped, glaring down at his son, showing no remorse.

"That will teach you to disobey us, and disgrace our family. You are no son of mine."

Those last words were like another curse, another slap in the face, another form of abuse. Worse than any other he had felt before, and worse pain was etching into his body and soul than any other had before. He felt shattered, broken, empty, soulless. To be disowned by his own parents. To have no family. What did one have if they did not have family?

Tears threatened to spill down Sirius' battered face, but he wouldn't let himself cry.

He would never give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sirius awoke on the freezing marble floor, every bone in his body ached. His head was pounding, his back ached, his legs ached, his arms ached… even his stomach ached. He wondered if he actually had enough willpower to get up.

He looked around blearily. They hadn't even bothered to move him; he was still lying in the exact same spot where his father had used an Unforgivable Curse on him the night before.

Everything thrown around in anger, the chairs that had been halfway across the room and the various dishes that were lying about had completely disappeared, and everything looked as if it had been polished recently. The shades were open on the windows, and it looked to be about dawn, meaning Sirius had been out for the whole night.

It seemed as though the Black family had moved about their every day lives without giving Sirius a thought. They obviously must have stepped over him… or, judging by the multiple bruises on his back, possibly stepped on him, as if he weren't there.

He wished he wasn't there. He wished he wasn't part of one of the most prestigious, wealthy, well-known, pure-blood families in the wizarding world.

He would give anything to swap places with that Potter boy; to belong to a loving, caring family, who supported him in whatever he did... That was something Sirius could only dream of now. His whole mindset, psyche, his obsession with pleasing his parents was gone.

But, there was nothing he could do about it. He was stuck in this revolving door, going round and round in circles, unable to escape the every day horrors that were his family, that were the bane of his existence.

A tear escaped down his cheek, and he dashed it away angrily, hating himself for showing weakness.

All he could think about was his existence, his past, his present his future. It was the future that scared him the most. He would grow up in fear, angry all the time, doing every little thing his parents wanted. Then he would become an adult, of course following a career in the Dark Arts, and then would be forced to marry some distant cousin and start the hideous cycle all over again.

Sirius sat up a little straighter. He decided. He had to get out of this place. Things had to change, and he had to change them. This was his life, not theirs. He had never been so sure about anything in his life.

He had to get out of the Black Manor and get back to Hogwarts, _now _before it was too late, and his parents awoke.

He only wished he could save Regulus… But it wasn't too late; he would be back in the Christmas holidays. Regulus was only little, they couldn't do anything too bad to him before then.

He slowly picked himself up off the cold, shiny floor, the only spot unclean being the spot in which he had just been lying. His entire body was screaming at him to stay in that very spot as he got up. Everything ached, cramped, hurt. He had a feeling that his left arm could have been broken from the fall onto the floor. It did not even surprise him as he had fallen directly onto it the night before.

After staggering around a little, he finally grabbed hold of something solid- the top of the fireplace. Perfect. Now all he had to do was move a little to the left, to grab the orange Floo powder. He sidled to the left a little, and every bone, every muscle in his body protested.

He bit his lip in order to keep himself from screaming or crying out. He _had _to do this; he couldn't let them catch him. As befuddled as his mind was at that moment, he knew he had to get back to Hogwarts.

He ignored his body's screaming protests and moved over to get the Floo powder. After leaning on the fireplace for a minute, breathing heavily, eyesight blurring, Floo in one hand, other hand resting himself on the fireplace, he stepped backwards to prepare himself.

Once again, he staggered a little but steadied himself quickly. Sirius took a deep breath, looked around the manor where he had grown up and threw the Floo in the fire, jumping after it painfully, yelling _"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"_

After a painful but quick journey, Sirius arrived in the fire in Professor Dumbledore's office. He stumbled out, and fell to the floor immediately, arms and legs everywhere.

He felt strong, yet frail hands pick him up and sit him in a chair, much to the relief of Sirius, who had felt before that the floor was spinning beneath him.

He then heard a loud voice saying, "Wait here my dear boy, I shall just send a message to Madame Pompfrey."

Sirius then realised that his eyes had been closed ever since he had jumped into the fireplace at the Black Manor. He slowly opened them, trying to focus, but not succeeding. After blinking what seemed a thousand times, his blurred vision began to focus on his surroundings.

He was sitting in an armchair in Professor Dumbledore's office next to the fire. He realised that it must have been Professor Dumbledore that had picked him up and carried him into the chair… and then Professor Dumbledore that had just left to send a message to Madame Pompfrey.

Sirius suddenly looked down at himself. He wanted to jump back into the fire the second he saw his own appearance. One of the many Black family rules was to _never, ever,_ let anyone outside of the immediate family know what was happening to them behind closed doors.

And Sirius's appearance said it all. His robes were ripped and torn, legs and arms were so bruised that they were starting to turn blue as all the bruises merged together. He had cuts everywhere, and his face…

He brought an aching arm up to feel the damage to his face. Just as he suspected, there were cuts and bruises scattered randomly across his usually boyish features, and to his horror, his lip was still bleeding from where he had bit it. His hair felt disgusting, caked with blood and dust from the floor. He was a complete mess.

A door creaked open, and suddenly Professor Dumbledore strode into the room, a concerned look on the man's usually smiling face.

"Sorry Mr. Black, but I had to find somebody to send a message to Madame Pompfrey for me," commented Dumbledore, trailing off when he saw Sirius's worried expression.

Sirius realised that the headmaster was looking at him, and attempted a weak smile, although it came out as more of a grimace.

The headmaster sat down in an armchair he had just conjured, right next to Sirius.

"Now, as we wait for Madame Pompfrey to arrive, shall we discuss your… condition? Was I right in assuming that you were probably in no condition to make your way to the hospital wing?"

"Y-yes sir, thank you," croaked Sirius, trying to find his voice. He felt that even if he had wanted to, his body would not let him take another step.

"Sirius," started the headmaster, "how exactly did these injuries," he gestured towards the various bruises and cuts on Sirius, "come about?"

The million dollar question that Sirius had been dreading. And so, Sirius Black said the first thing that popped into his head. An excuse used worldwide.

"I- I fell, sir," he said weakly, not looking the headmaster in the eye.

The headmaster looked at Sirius sadly, almost as if expecting an answer like this.

"I see. Did anybody… help you fall?" said the headmaster, trying not to scare the terrified boy anymore.

Sirius involuntarily started to cry noiselessly, and replied in a whisper, "No sir."

"Hmm," said the headmaster, thinking, and watching the boy hastily try to brush away the tears on his face with his right hand. He seemed to be holding his left arm against him.

"And if they had contributed in anyway to your injuries, would you be permitted to tell me?" said the headmaster.

Sirius, realising what the headmaster was doing, smiled weakly, and said "No, definitely not, sir."

The headmaster smiled concernedly back, and asked one final question.

"And, Sirius Black, do you trust me?"

Sirius didn't even have to think about that one. Although he barely knew the professor, he trusted the man with everything he had.

"Most definitely, sir."

Dumbledore smiled and looked as if he were about to say something, but changed his mind, as a flustered Madame Pompfrey bustled into the room, with what looked like a first aid kit full of various potions.

Without looking up, she said "What is so important that you must call me here from my patients, Albus? What could possibly be so dreadfully important?"

Dumbledore looked at Madame Pompfrey's flustered appearance and then replied.

"Sirius Black has returned from the Black Manor, Poppy."

"Sirius Black has-" started Madame Pompfrey but trailed off as she finally looked up, taking in Sirius's appearance.

"Oh you poor dear!" she said to Sirius, and rushed over to him, opening her kit and taking out seven or eight different potions.

Sirius looked at her worriedly, wondering when she would start to question him about the origin of his injuries.

Dumbledore seemed to interpret Sirius's gaze, and quickly said something, before Pompfrey could get out every potion she owned.

"Poppy, would you please come and have a word with me? In private?"

"Yes of course headmaster, just let me tend to Mr. Black's injuries…" started Madame Pompfrey, but was cut off.

"No Poppy, I'd like you to come _now,"_ said Dumbledore, a note of finality in his tone.

After looking at Sirius and then at Dumbledore, Madame Pompfrey seemed to decide that it was probably best not to argue with the headmaster, and giving Sirius an apologetic look, she followed Dumbledore through a door into his private quarters.

"Really headmaster, I don't see why this couldn't wait until after I had tended to Mr. Black's injuries, he really is in a bad way," started Madame Pompfrey, but once again, the headmaster cut her off.

"Poppy," he said, holding a hand up as if trying to stop her talking. "This will only take a minute. I just wanted to warn you, that I would prefer it if you did not ask Mr. Black of where his injuries came from."

Madame Pompfrey started to protest indignantly, but was cut off yet again.

"Yes Poppy, I do realise that his injuries are serious, but I have already figured out where they come from. It is rather a personal matter, to give you a hint, dearest Poppy."

Madame Pompfrey, as if finally realising, looked at him in horror.

"You- you mean, his family…"

"Yes, that is what I suspect Poppy. So I would prefer that you kept quiet about it?"

"Of course headmaster, of course," said Poppy, an extremely worried look on her face.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Meanwhile, Sirius was sitting in the headmasters office, tapping the fingers on his right hand in an absent-minded rhythm on his knee, worried about what Dumbledore was, or was not telling Madame Pompfrey.

He trusted Dumbledore, but he did not want the whole world to know his secret. He did not want anybody to know, in fact, that he was being abused behind closed doors, but he realised, that with the particular situation he was in, it was a necessity.

He sat for a few minutes, getting more anxious by the second, waiting worriedly for the headmaster and Madame Pompfrey to return.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes, Madame Pompfrey emerged, looking considerably more worried, followed by the headmaster, who gave Sirius a faint smile.

Sirius's heart sank. The headmaster had told Madame Pompfrey. He supposed she would have to know, but couldn't the headmaster just say he had fallen?

Sirius sighed, realising that that was a weak excuse, even in his mind. Madame Pompfrey came and knelt back in the place she had been minutes before, and started retrieving more potions and colourful bottles.

Sirius looked down at her and gave her a weak smile, which she returned rather concernedly.

"Now dear," she said kindly, "I'm just going to start putting some of this potion over those nasty bruises of yours," she started, but suddenly stopped mid-sentence, and looked over at the fire.

The flames had grown overly large, and it looked as if somebody was about to come through the fire. Dumbledore went and stood directly in front of the fire, with a confused look on his face, blocking Madame Pompfrey and Sirius's view. Who could it possibly be now?

The person emerged from the flames, and greeted Professor Dumbledore.

"Albus, how nice to see you once again," said the voice coldly.

Every muscle in Sirius's body clenched up, and he thought he was going to faint. He knew that voice.

"Ah, Mrs. Black, how interesting to see you," said Dumbledore.


	4. Chapter 4

Every muscle in Sirius's body clenched up, and he thought he was going to faint. He knew that voice.

"Ah, Mrs Black, how interesting to see you," said Dumbledore.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" said Dumbledore, still facing the fireplace, so that Mrs Black could not see Sirius, and vice versa.

Poor Sirius was shaking uncontrollably in his seat. He could hear the controlled, yet seething anger in his mother's voice. She had come for him, come to take him back to that awful house, come to punish him.

"I believe my son Sirius is here, and I must take him back to the Manor right away. We have some unfinished business to attend to," said Sirius's mother, getting rather impatient and glaring at the headmaster.

"Ah… Mrs Black, I'm afraid that isn't possible," said the headmaster, managing to sound apologetic.

"And why not?" she said indignantly, growing redder and redder by the minute.

Sirius quivered in his seat. She was _really _angry now. Why was Dumbledore doing this? He should know, better than anyone, not to get on the wrong side of the Blacks.

Madame Pompfrey, who was still kneeling at the boy's feet attempting to put potions on various cuts and bruises, stopped trying altogether; she looked up at the shaking boy worriedly and rested a hand on his lap, as if to tell him that everything would be fine. She knew, without a doubt, that Dumbledore would sort this out.

"Well you see my dear woman," started Dumbledore, "Sirius goes to this school to learn. We cannot allow students to leave for home—or anywhere, for that matter—while they are supposed to be here, learning and studying. So, I am afraid I cannot permit him to leave this castle."

Mrs Black looked ready to kill. "Well, my dear man," she spat venomously, "I beg to differ. You see: he is my son, and I pay for him to attend this school! And I believe that that gives me the right to take him anytime I want."

"No, Mrs Black," started Dumbledore, but he was cut off when the tall, wide figure of Mrs Black shoved him aside, so that she stood in front of her son.

She looked him up and down spitefully, taking in every cut, every bruise. "I knew you were in here," she said, glaring at her eldest son, showing no sign of remorse. "It was silly of you to run."

"I…I…" Sirius started weakly, looking down at his feet, where a couple of discarded potion bottles lay. Madame Pompfrey had struggled to her feet the minute that Mrs Black had pushed past Dumbledore, and was now standing next to Sirius protectively, giving Mrs Black a look that could kill.

Dumbledore, who had now regained his bearings, strode over and stood next to Sirius on the other side of the armchair, looking at Mrs Black passively, so as to not anger her further.

"Mrs Black, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," said Dumbledore, resting a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Sirius has to go and study."

Sirius's mother looked nonchalantly from Madame Pompfrey, to Dumbledore, and lastly to her quivering son. She decided to change tactics, and put on the sweetest smile she could muster.

"Oh, yes, I understand he needs to study. Perhaps, he could come home and study? We still have a few things to discuss about the house in which he has chosen to reside …" she said, saying the last sentence as though she had a bad taste in her mouth.

Dumbledore looked at her, his face expressionless again. "What is there to discuss, Mrs Black? The Sorting Hat chose the house in which it thought Sirius would work to the best of his ability. You can hardly blame _him_ for that."

Mrs Black's fake smile wavered slightly, transforming into a small smirk. "I don't agree, Headmaster. Everyone in our family must be in Slytherin. It is a family tradition, very important to us."

Sirius looked up suddenly, a little more spark in his eyes but still shaking violently, and opened his mouth as if to say something. After receiving a look from his mother, however, he shut his mouth quickly and resumed staring at his feet.

Dumbledore had watched this exchange with interest. "My dear boy, I believe you were about to say something?" said the ageing headmaster, looking Sirius in the eye, encouraging him silently.

Sirius looked waveringly at his mother, and then decided that he didn't really have anything else to lose. "M- My cousin An- Andromeda isn't in S-Slytherin," he said quietly, not daring to look at his mother, but focusing on the headmaster.

"Ah, yes!" Dumbledore started, cutting in before Mrs Black could say anything. "She is one of my prize pupils! A very smart girl, that one."

Mrs Black's smirk suddenly turned into a thin line, and she clenched her left fist by her side, her right fist firmly around her wand.

"Yes, _that girl _may be smart, but she is a disgrace to the family. She has no sense of family honour, no tradition, no pride."

"My dear woman, family honour is not everything!" cried Dumbledore.

Sirius wanted the world to swallow him up to crawl into a hole and die. To run, run away. To suggest that family honour was not everything to a Black was like telling a small child that candy was not important. It was complete and utter suicide.

Mrs Black turned a sickeningly bright red colour and breathed heavily, looking as though steam would come out of her nose and ears.

She gritted her teeth together, grinding them. "FAMILY HONOUR IS EVERYTHING. OUR FAMILY WOULD BE NOWHERE WITHOUT FAMILY HONOUR! HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE OUR VALUES!" she screamed at the headmaster, whom remained perfectly upright, perfectly composed.

"Mrs Black I am quite sure that your family has other values than tradition and family honour. I am also quite sure that if you made an effort, you and your family could accept the fact that Sirius and Andromeda are not in Slytherin," said Dumbledore calmly, eyeing Sirius, who was now sitting with his legs curled under him, head in his hands.

"HOW DARE YOU! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF OUR FAMILY! NOTHING! DO NOT GIVE ME _ADVICE_ ON WHAT _MY _FAMILY COULD AND COULDN'T DO. I DEMAND THAT SIRIUS BE RE-SORTED! HE CANNOT STAY IN THAT HOUSE ONE MOMENT LONGER!"

"No need to shout, Mrs Black. Of course we will re-sort Sirius, as you requested. We shall do it at a later time, however: I think now is rather inconvenient," he said, looking pointedly at Sirius's various injuries.

Mrs Black had now controlled her fury and was quietly seething. "Albus. I do not care how much pain the boy is in. He will get re-sorted here and now, and I will watch him do it! He will not spend a minute longer in that wretched house."

Madame Pompfrey stared at Mrs Black in disgust, using every ounce of willpower she had not to start screaming at the woman. Sirius needed medical attention, and soon.

Dumbledore gave the fuming mediwitch a look to silence her, and then said, "I see. Well, if that is the way you want it, Mrs Black, then we must get this over and done with: however, on two conditions."

"Yes, yes, what is it Albus?" said Mrs Black, waving her hand around impatiently.

"Firstly, whatever happens, you must promise me that he will stay here no matter what."

Mr Black squirmed on the spot, frowning at the man in front of her. "Fine. But no funny business, Albus."

"Of course not. And secondly, if Sirius is re-sorted into Gryffindor, he must stay there. If he is sorted into another house, he will have a choice, either to stay in Gryffindor, or to go into the selected house. Agreed?" he said, looking down at Sirius and smiling confidently.

Sirius gave the headmaster a weak smile in return, wondering what was going to happen to him.

Mrs Black's frown deepened, the frown lines in her forehead creasing, eyes squinting. There was no doubt in her mind that her son would get sorted into Slytherin: he wasn't dumb enough to get re-sorted into Gryffindor, was he?

And he certainly wasn't dumb enough to choose that wretched house over Slytherin, and his family's honour.

"Very well, Albus, we shall do it your way. Let us just get this over and done with, shall we?" she said exasperatedly.

Dumbledore smiled politely, and nodded. "Of course, madam. Just give me a moment."

With that, Dumbledore strode off into the next room to retrieve the Sorting Hat.


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius sat uncomfortably in the normally extremely comfy chair, fidgeting with his good hand, his dark, warm eyes to the floor, so he could not make any unnecessary eye contact with his mother.

He knew for certain that if Madame Pompfrey hadn't been present, his mother would be yelling, screaming, and doing everything in her power to make him feel even more wprse.

But, Mrs Black, attempting to maintain a passive front, just sat primly in an armchair opposite to Sirius, and examined her long manicured nails nonchalantly, glancing over at her son every so often. Her face qremained completely expressionless, as if to show Sirius that he would have to wait to see what was going to happen.

Madame Pompfrey, being a loyal staff member, and kind hearted citizen in general, stood by Sirius defiantly until she was sure that the wicked Mrs Black was not going to attempt to make any contact with her son – physical or mental. Nothing else was going to happen to the poor boy under her watch, she would make sure of that.

Madame Pompfrey watched Mrs Black sit down and examine her nails intently, and then she carefully kneeled on the floor next to Sirius, instead of directly in front him, where she could tend to his wounds easier.

Mrs Black noticed this amusedly, and her thin-lipped mouth formed a smarmy smirk that Pompfrey dearly wished she could curse off the other woman's face.

Instead of taking her anger out on Mrs Black, she directed it towards the occupation she was best at- being a mediwitch. She started to rub various lotions and potions on Sirius's injuries, glancing over at Mrs Black every so often, not caring whether or not the old bat saw.

Sirius looked at the two women in turn, wondering what would happen to him, and wishing that Madame Pompfrey wouldn't make it so damned obvious that she disliked his mother. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, but there was no need for Madame Pompfrey to get on the wrong side of his mother too. Oh well, he couldn't worry about that – they were adults. What he did have to worry about however, was the dreaded re-sorting.

What would he do? If he was re-sorted into Gryffindor, his parents would probably kill him. If he was sorted into Slytherin, the Slytherins would most likely end up killing him. He knew for a fact that he wasn't like them, he didn't belong with them.

He knew he wasn't smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, that wasn't even an option. And Hufflepuff… well it just didn't seem right for him. And, if he was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore had said he would have to make a choice. What on earth should he choose?

Dumbledore appeared back into the room as Sirius was weighing up pros and cons in his head, as he tried to block out the stinging pain of his injuries and the various painful lotions that Pompfrey was applying to them.

Dumbledore was holding the hat in his right hand, and a small golden bowl in the other. He put them down both on a small coffee table, and conjured up two more armchairs.

"Madame Pompfrey, if you please?" said Dumbledore, motioning for the young med-witch to get up and sit in an armchair. She reluctantly stood up, moving her potions to the side, and went and sat down in the armchair.

"Well, if we're all comfortable now?" stalled Dumbledore, rather obviously Sirius thought, looking around, and then sitting down in an armchair, his eyes resting gently on the bruised and battered boy to his left.

"Yes, yes Dumbledore, just get on with it," said Mrs Black once again, cutting in snidely before the others could say a word.

"Yes of course. All in good time. Would anybody like a chocolate frog?" he asked, offering round the small golden bowl of frogs.

Mrs Black glared at the Headmaster, knowing perfectly well that he was stalling, and getting more and more impatient by the minute. She passed on the small bowl to Pompfrey, who automatically passed it to Sirius, taking nothing for herself.

Sirius looked at his mother, who shook her head lightly, so lightly in fact that it was likely that no one but Sirius noticed, and then at Dumbledore, who looked at him encouragingly. He looked at the bowl, and then slowly took out a chocolate frog, glancing quickly at his mother. **The first act of defiance.**

He passed the delicate bowl back to Professor Dumbledore, giving the man a rather lopsided, worried half-smile. Dumbledore smiled back, and picked up the aging hat from the equally aged table, directing his smile towards the whole group gathered there.

"Are you ready Sirius, my dear boy?" said Dumbledore, standing up and holding the hat at the point of it.

"Yes sir," said Sirius, sounding, and acting, a lot more confident than he actually felt.

Professor Albus Dumbledore put the wizened Sorting Hat on Sirius's head, and the hat slipped down over the boys eyes.

Mrs Black leaned forward in her seat expectantly, staring at her son eagerly.

Madame Pompfrey sat in her seat, drumming her fingers on the sides of the chair, making an irritating tapping noise, whilst staring at Sirius worriedly.

Dumbledore returned to his seat after placing the hat on Sirius's head, and he was now looking at Sirius with an unreadable expression on his face- the headmaster never ceased to confuse.

0o0o0o

Sirius felt the hat plonk down on his head, and then all he saw was darkness as it fell over his eyes.

He heard a raspy cough, and then there was silence for a few seconds. Sirius wondered what was going on outside, whether they were just sitting, or all glaring at each other. Knowing the people present in the room, he figured it would be a mixture of the two.

A deep, wise old voice interrupted his thoughts, startling him a little.

"Ah, Sirius Black. Back again, I see?"

Sirius knew that the hat wasn't really asking a question, it was more stating a fact, and so he kept his silence.

"Well, I still think Gryffindor is the best option… You would definitely learn to fit in well there and do to the best of your ability, if only you would let some of your barriers down, and let the people in that have tried to reach out to you…"

_Who?_

The Sorting Hat heard his unanswered question. "The Lupin boy for example… You two would complement each other's personalities, and the same with the Potter boy."

_Ha, James Potter? He hates me. I hate him._

"Did you ever think of why you hate him?"

_He's a Potter!_

"Exactly. Mr Black, names and family are not everything. If only you could try to understand…"

The hat sighed, and stopped talking, and to Sirius it seemed that the hat was thinking, contemplating where he should put Sirius.

A thousand thoughts were going round in Sirius's head.

_Slytherin or Gryffindor? _

_Slytherin for honour, and acceptance… _

_Gryffindor for supposed happiness and bravery?_

_James Potter? No, we could never be friends… and that Lupin boy…_

Once again, the wizened old voice interrupted his flurry of thoughts.

"Hm… I think I know what I'm going to do. I'm sorry about this, boy, but you must choose. Just remember, your enemies can be your best friends… Choose carefully, boy."

0o0o0o

"Slytherin!" the hat yelled, and Sirius pulled off the hat quickly, handing it back to Dumbledore, a miserable look on his face.

Mrs Black sat up, clapping her hands in delight. "Excellent! Well, it's all settled then! He can move to the Slytherin dormitories tonight, yes? Oh, I knew he could do it. I'll just leave then, I have things to do at the Manor," said Mrs Black, starting to gather her things.

"Wait, Mrs Black!" started Dumbledore, as a satisfied Mrs Black started to get up out of her chair. "You do remember our agreement? Sirius must choose! Slytherin, or Gryffindor."

Mrs Black stared at Dumbledore as if he were a child, almost tauntingly.

"Well, Albus, of course he chooses Slytherin."

"Mrs Black, _Sirius _must choose, not you," said the headmaster passively, talking to Mrs Black as she had just spoken to him.

"Sirius? Do you have a decision now? Or would you like us to give you a few days?" said Dumbledore, turning towards Sirius and smiling expectantly.

Sirius sat in his chair, looking at three expectant faces staring at him. He didn't know what to do. Should he make a decision now? Or wait? No, it was best to get it over with, he thought.

"No, I'll make my decision now," said Sirius, looking down at the chair.

"Wonderful, dear boy. Would you like us to leave while you make your decision?" said Dumbledore, looking at the boy with a mix of encouragement and worry.

"N-no, just… just give me a minute," said Sirius.

"Of course."

Sirius leant back in the armchair, and put his hands over his eyes, breathing out slowly.

He had to make a decision. But what should he base it on?

Friends? Well, he didn't really have many friends in the school. And the only people that had really paid any attention to him were the Lupin boy, and Potter. And that wasn't saying much- no matter what the hat had said, Sirius didn't really think that he would be able to befriend those boys. They were just so different to him.

And yet…what was that the hat had said? "Your enemies can be your best friends…" What did the hat mean? Sirius guessed he could attempt to be friends with them, but he was sure they wouldn't readily accept him.

He supposed he could base his decision on family, which would land him in Slytherin. Although, to tell the truth, he didn't really like Slytherin as a house all that much- most of the wizards turned out to be evil, and like their fathers, and ancestors. But there was also a matter of family pride. He didn't want to disappoint anybody, or let anybody down- they were his family, after all.

Sirius knew that if he chose Gryffindor, he would get punished profusely, just like before, but much, much worse. And if he chose Slytherin, it was likely he would get into dark arts… And, for some reason, Sirius didn't want to be like the rest of his family. Didn't want to hate, hurt, kill people just for fun. At least, he didn't think he did.

So many things were taking over his mind – family, friends, honour, love, hate, bravery, dark arts, Gryffindor, Slytherin.

But, suddenly, the answer was clear. He needed to follow that reckless part of him, the part of him that wanted to fight back, rather than the good little Black boy for once. He needed to follow his heart rather than his mind.

Sirius took his hands away from his eyes hesitantly, and blinked a couple of times, to re-adjust his eyes to the light in the room.

Two pairs of eyes were staring at him expectantly, and smilingly, and one pair was glaring, at him. He managed to block out the faces, and turned to towards Dumbledore, still looking at the floor, and stated the decision.

"I… I would like to stay in Gryffindor," he said, not looking up at his mother. **Defiance number two.**

"YOU WHAT!" screamed a livid Mrs Black, advancing on her shaking son, who pulled his legs up on the couch, and put his arms around his knees, as if to shield himself from his mother.

What had he done? Betrayed his family, all for probable happiness? He would take it back. They would still love him no matter what. Right?

Wrong."YOU CHOSE GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! OVER SLYTHERIN! OVER YOUR FAMILY HONOUR! OVER TRADITION! HOW DARE YOU! YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE!" she screamed, advancing towards him, raising her wand arm, completely forgetting the other people in the room.

Dumbledore whipped out his wand so fast that Sirius barely saw it. He strode out in front of Mrs Black, his wand pointed at her, standing between her and Sirius.

Tears started to stream down Sirius's face silently. How wrong he had truly been. She didn't want him to be her son. She had said it herself. This was how his family was going to treat him? This was how they treated their relations? This wasn't family. This was keeping up a stance. A reputation.

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to stand up for himself. Why should he have to deal with this anymore?

He lifted his head up defiantly, not caring what he looked like. Tears were streaming down his face. His eyes were puffy. His face was bruised and battered. But he stood his ground.

He tapped Dumbledore on the shoulder, who was standing between Sirius and his mother in silence. Dumbledore looked at Sirius, who nodded slightly but shakily. Dumbledore seemed to think for a minute, and then stood aside, his wand still pointed at Mrs Black.

Sirius walked a couple of steps forward, and then decided to stop. He could speak to his mother from here.

Mrs Black glared at her son defiantly, and was about to say something, no doubt something awful, but Sirius cut her off quickly, before he lost his nerve.

"Well, maybe I don't want a family that doesn't love me no matter what! If you had any of your so-called honour, you would love me no matter what," said Sirius. **Defiance number three.**

Mrs Black, who towered over her son, looked down at him, her face nearly purple.

"How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you! We shall see what your father will have to say about this."

And with that, Sirius Black's mother stalked over to the fire, and screamed "BLACK MANOR!" after throwing in some Floo Powder. And with that, she was gone.

Madame Pompfrey, who had been standing next to Mrs Black, wand pointed, suddenly ran across the room, and hugged the poor unsuspecting Sirius Black. She pulled away quickly, tears in her eyes, and then bustled him over to the armchair, sitting him down and starting to open her potions again.

Dumbledore stared at the boy, a glint in his eye, a grin on his face. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor," he said quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius sat dumbly in the chair, staring straight ahead in complete and utter shock at what he had just done. What had he done?! It all seemed to be a blur now. A blur of uncertainty, and foolishness. He should have transferred to Slytherin- what the hell had he been thinking?

Madame Pomfrey still sat at the boy's feet, dabbing a bit of potion here, muttering a spell there. Fussing in general. Dumbledore sat across from Sirius in one of the cushy armchairs, and seemed to be studying him intently.

"You did the right thing Mr. Black," commented Dumbledore calmly, smiling at the young boy warmly, obviously trying to brighten his spirits.

Sirius snapped out of his reverie and looked up at the smiling headmaster. He couldn't bear to disagree with the old man, who only seemed to want the best for him.

"Yes sir," he said, smiling wanly.

Dumbledore returned the smile, a hint of worry in his lined face. Sirius could see that the headmaster knew he was lying, but was choosing to remain aloof about it.

"Good, Gryffindor is a fine house, and I think you will find it is where you belong. Although I probably shouldn't be saying this, it may be wise to not listen to your family on this particular occasion. We choose our own paths in life, our families cannot choose them for us."

They were wise words of wisdom, but Sirius didn't see much truth in them. Many parents chose what their children did, by pushing them, or "encouraging" them into it. It was especially a tradition among pure bloods, and Slytherin families.

Why should he break the trend? Why should Sirius be the one to rebel? Be the one to be different, and stand out like a sore thumb?

Sirius rested his head in his hands again, making sure that the headmaster could see no emotion coming from him. He didn't want to make a big deal, make a scene.

After a few moments, he felt a shadow appear over him, and he quickly took his hands from his face. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that it was only Madame Pomfrey standing up. She had finally finished fussing over him.

Sirius stood up as well, feeling a little intimidated by her standing over him. But, he stood a little too quickly, and there was a loud, sick, crack as a bone re- popped out of place. Sirius sat back down again, groaning in pain.

Madame Pomfrey glared at him disapprovingly.

"Did I say you could get up yet, you silly boy? Now you're going to have to spend the night in the hospital wing, so that that bone can heal properly," she fussed, tutting at him as she packed up her different potions.

Sirius sighed and squirmed uncomfortably. The hospital wing was not the most riveting place to stay. It was boring, there was nothing to do but be constantly fussed over – and to top it all off, it smelt really bad. Sirius had a hunch that there was a constant self- cleaning spell on the whole place, making it always have the strong stench of lemon disinfectant.

"Sorry Madame Pompfrey," he mumbled, not looking forward to her fussing over him for the next twenty four hours, no matter how good her intentions were.

The young med-witch huffed in reply, and finished packing up her things, straightening back upright again.

Sirius glanced over at Dumbledore, whom immediately assumed a stern expression – although Sirius could have sworn that it was a smirk only seconds earlier.

The headmaster's eyes twinkled, and he once again smiled at Sirius warmly, as he got up out of the squashy armchair, saying "Now Mr. Black, make sure you bide by Madame Pompfrey, and I trust you will be feeling better soon. I also hope to not see you here in the near future – unless of course, it is a social call – in which case my door is always open."

Sirius blushed a little at this little speech, and hung his head abashedly, not wanting to look the headmaster in the eye. It wasn't just from embarrassment, but also because Sirius had never had such kindness shown towards him before. He didn't know how to react, as nobody in his family had ever come close to being, well, nice to him, ever.

Dumbledore could see that Sirius was troubled, and without waiting for a reply, he bustled onwards, helping Madame Pompfrey to retrieve her various cases and bags, before levitating them into the air for her.

"There you go m'dear, now off you go, the both of you, and Mr. Black, do try to get some sleep!" Dumbledore said, helping the still blushing Sirius out of his chair, and then bustling them both out of the room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o

Sirius sat up in the white hospital bed, trying to disentangle himself from the crisp white sheets that restrained him to the bed.

He gasped for air, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

He put his hands to his face and felt that it was nearly on fire, and sweaty to the touch.

"Ugh," he said, disgusted with how worked up he had let himself get.

"Are you alright?" came a weak voice from only metres away.

"Agh!" Sirius yelled, jumping.

He looked over at the bed on the left, only to find one Remus Lupin, staring at him with worry in his eyes.

"Merlin, Lupin you scared me! I thought I was the only one in here!" he said, clutching his chest and trying to get into a normal breathing pattern once again.

Remus chuckled slightly.

"Sorry. But are you okay? You were yelling things in your sleep," he said, sitting up in his bed.

Sirius groaned inwardly. What had he been yelling? It had been a pretty bad dream. Hopefully it wasn't anything too… revealing.

"I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. It was just a dream. But uh, just out of curiosity, what was I yelling?" he asked casually, his stomach twisting itself into intricate knots.

Remus stared at the boy.

"Oh, nothing much, I couldn't really tell."

Sirius looked at the boy, and from the guilty look in his eyes, he could tell that the wretched Lupin boy was lying.

"Just tell me Lupin," he hissed.

"There's nothing to tell, Sirius," replied Remus nonchalantly.

Sirius was a little taken back with this. How odd, for that boy to use his first name. Usually people only used his last name, as if he didn't matter. The only person at the school who had called him by his first name was Dumbledore. He calmed down a little.

"Fine. Why are you in here anyway, R-Remus?" he said, testing out this new, friendly way of saying things.

A guarded look suddenly came into the other boy's eyes.

"Oh, just a fall," he said airily. "You?"

Sirius regarded him with the same guarded look.

"Oh, just a fall."


End file.
